


an open letter to ponce de leon

by sunflowershayne



Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, First Kiss, Lowercase, M/M, POV Second Person, Poetic, i'm sorry for this i just had a thought and needed to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowershayne/pseuds/sunflowershayne
Summary: spoiler alert: there is no fountain of youth.





	an open letter to ponce de leon

the two of you are lying on your bed, holding hands, and looking up at the ceiling. there are a million words that are hanging in the air, flying around and shining like fireflies, and you could theoretically pick a few and put them in a jar to share with him. but the silence is so delicate and beautiful that you don't want to break it.

your head turns to look at him, drinking in his features. his angular jaw, the stubble on his chin, the bright clear blue of his eyes, the way that his dirty blond hair falls around his face... you find yourself unable to breathe for a second, and you squeeze his hand a bit.

the beating in your chest quickens as he squeezes back.

"are you really sure that you want to do this, dames?" he asks, his head now turned to look at you. you can *see* the fondness in his eyes, and you feel yourself turning into a puddle.

you nod, determined and very clearly eager to try this out.

from the moment you met him, you knew that he was going to be special to you. even when you didn't hit it off right away, and the looks he gave you on the playground were full of ire and confusion. even when you called him your friend for the first time and he got anxious and ran away. even when you grabbed his hand for the first time and he almost instantly broke contact.

you've loved him since 5th grade, and you still love him now.

he gives a smile, and the two of you sit up, the history books that you had previously been studying from falling off of the bed and hitting the ground with a loud thud, like a rumble of thunder. your hands never break away from one another's, and the heat that he naturally radiates warms you as you turn your body towards him.

his other hand connects to your jaw, and your free hand immediately catches his waist. underneath his shirt, you can feel the muscles in his side shiver with the touch of your hand. he strokes your cheek with a calloused thumb and says, "damien, i fucking love you."

you're prepared to give a verbal response, but he doesn't give you enough time to formulate the words, instead leaning forward and closing the gap between your lips and his. you tilt your head to the side, and he tilts his the opposite way. it feels like the two of you are puzzle pieces that have just now finally realized that you fit together. everything is smooth and natural, and you move in harmony with one another, like this is something you've done a billion times before.

the movie-magic fireworks aren't there. there is no grand swelling of the music, no crescendo into it. it's sudden, and soft, and sweet, and you feel like you've finally come home.

it lasts mere seconds, and it's not enough for you. he pulls away for air and as soon as he's taken a lungful, you both pull each other back in. you two are magnets that refuse to be separated again. not once, not ever.

minutes later, you finally break apart, breathing rough and ragged, as you haven't been breathing regularly since the two of you started kissing.

his bright, crystalline eyes shine and there's a noticeable, yet faint blush on his cheeks. "why the hell didn't we do this earlier?"

"well, we *were* studying, dumbass. it's not my fault you had to be so goshdang cute and ruin my chances of remembering who the hell ponce de leon is."

"fuck ponce de leon. if i get to keep kissing you, i'll gladly forget whoever the fuck he is."

you're smitten, and you know it. each word that comes out of his mouth is another of cupid's arrows lodging itself in your chest. the corners of your lips turn upward, and you bring your hand to his chin, leaning back to kiss him again, just a peck against his lips.

"now's probably a good time to tell you that i already know pretty much everything from this chapter and i just needed an excuse to bring you to my room so i could tell you that i think you're cute."

he releases his grip on your hand and jaw, and reaches for one of your pillows, hitting you with it, as the two of you laugh. "you fucking *suck*, dude."

"are you gonna tell me that you would rather study than keep smooching me, shayne?"

there's a pause, as if he's actually thinking about his response, before his arms wrap around your waist, and you let yours wrap around his neck. the tiny amount of space between you is electric as he says, "i already know who ponce de leon is too."

 

_dear ponce de leon, if you're even listening from beyond the grave:_

_spoiler alert: there is no fountain of youth._

_there is no magic cure for growing old, there is no saving grace that will magically reverse the effects of time, there is no end-all be-all that will save us from death itself._

_in fact, many would say that the only way to stay eternally youthful *is* through death._

_death doesn't discriminate against the old or the young, and when you die, you'll stay that same age for the rest of your life. some people may celebrate your birthdays while you aren't there, but they don't actually age you. your ghost will remain the same age._

_but honestly, if i had any say in it, i would disagree._

_i think that the only way to stay eternally young is to live your life with someone as gorgeous and perfect as the boy i love._

_and god, i'm so glad that you didn't find that, because this discovery is mine and i'm so fucking proud to proclaim it from the rooftops._

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @sunflowershayne or @damimem
> 
> or on twitter @damimem
> 
> for more premium dumbass wax-poetic nonsense


End file.
